Discovering the Yugosphere

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One thing I have learnt about travelling on a budget, and being a bargain hunter, is that these exceptionally cheap air fares usually come with strings attached. When I fell upon £15.00 tickets to Zadar, Croatia, I was all over that like a rash. £15.00 from East Midlands to Zadar. £15.00 back flying into London Stansted. Bargain!

Unfortunately the strings became evident the night before whilst I was googling my home in Tooting to East Midlands airport for the next morning. 3 hours and a £70.00 ticket? This was no longer a bargain, but a hindrance. My poor Kiwi friend sat forlornly as I trolled all the train and bus websites to try and get us there on time without breaking the bank. Many journey planners later and I had us leaving home at 5am for our 12pm flight, for a measly £30.00 each. That was better.

In my sheer excitement of booking such amazing tickets I didn’t bother to research much into Zadar. I wanted a relaxing break away from work, and on the map Zadar was on the beach. As we flew in to Zadar, we were immediately reminded of home. The scattering of small islands off the mainland, and the lush greenery were almost mirror images of what we were used to back in New Zealand. The water was like glass and the scenery was so green. Not like London green, where it’s all covered in smog, but fresh, real green. As we drove to our hostel however, we discovered very quickly that Zadar was a harbour town. Not a beachside town, which in fact no one but myself had lead me to believe. I was mildly disappointed but I’m not really one to laze around on the beach anyway.

Zadar is such an interesting town, with the added bonus that it lacks hordes of tourists. Tall residential buildings create narrow streets and are connected with criss-crossings of washing lines, and dotted with hideaway bars. Locals sit outside under canopies, drinking and chatting, soaking up the afternoon sun. We wander around, ducking in and out of the paved streets, taking in all the dinky shops and listening to the music echoing around the buildings. We stop and get something to eat, and order a small sandwich for around a pound, and got served a sandwich the size of a foot long Subway sub which boggled me because everyone in this country is so tiny.

We walked along the harbour side, passing through some tented markets. At the end of the harbour, the walkway collapsed into stairs where people had gathered to watch the sunset. We joined them, and relaxed there taking in the beauty. As the sun slowly set, it cast shadows on the hills in the distance and turned them into silhouettes. As darkness set in, the harbour that we were sitting on slowly started illuminating. It had large bulbs set into the pavement that lit up, casting a blue light across everyone. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and we decided to call it a night after our full on day of travels.

We woke up early the next morning and headed up to Plitvice Lakes National Park which is about 2 hours drive from Zadar. We parked up and as soon as we hit the trail we were greeted with the sight of an absolutely breathtaking waterfall. It felt like a dream. We hiked along the trail, which chopped and changed between cleared earth and rugged wooden pathways almost floating in the lakes. We were surrounded by a million cascading waterfalls, from little trickles to monstrous torrents of water.The waterfalls were surrounded by dense, green foliage and these were framed by crystal clear lakes filled with trout. Tourists aren’t allowed to swim or fish here to our dismay but it meant that the water is so unbelievably clear. We hiked around the paths, ventured up into caves and took a ferry across one of the lakes. It was like a mini New Zealand. Everything was so untouched, so unscarred by humans touch. The air was so fresh, so different to the think London air. We passed frogs, snakes and millions of trout. Apparently bears live in the National Park as well, one of the only places in Europe that they still remain, but luckily we saw no sign of them.


We then drove across the border into Bosnia and Herzegovina and had dinner at a local diner near Bihac. We passed demolished houses and buildings, remnants of the war. What was cropping up in its place was a weird mish mash of incredibly modern houses and renovated old buildings, a lot of them in ‘sherbet orange’ or ‘sick green.’ The landscape here was so different, literally changing before our eyes in a matter of metres. The atmosphere was different here too. Less of the relaxed, natural feel; it had more of a weary, old feel to it. The effects of the war seemed more prominent here, and it seemed this area of Bosnia had pulled a short straw. The roads here were pot holed and scraggly, with no markings.


No one here spoke English which was hard but understandable. They just kept speaking to us in their language and to this day I still have no idea what they were saying. Ordering food was interesting. My Kiwi friend ordered his chicken which was fine and went out for a smoke. He came back to me pointing at differing items on the menu and the waiter shaking his head. I eventually pointed to something that I was allowed and ended up with calf's liver which was surprisingly delicious.


We drove back and got lost in the back country roads of Bosnia. Ended up following tiny gravel roads and the GPS kept telling us to turn left but there was no left turn. We got stuck behind a horse and cart at one point, that's how much we were lost. Saturday evening must be the time for walking because it seemed like all the villages were out for a stroll in the middle of the road. We came very close to a young girl who made no effort to move and her angry mother following behind menacingly pushed her pram towards our car, holding a small baby. What she was hoping to accomplish from that was beyond me, but we carried on our lost way, hoping and praying that we wouldn’t have to turn round and pass the woman again. We eventually emerged out of the countryside in a billow of dust and came out quite close to the border. It was a relief to pass back over, because compared to Croatia, Bosnia was almost third world.

We drove back through the hills, watching yet again another stunning sunset, this time in the Plitvice Hills. We drove back exhausted but happy. We went and sat in a dinky little bar tucked away in the streets of Zadar and had a drink with a man from Newcastle that we picked up at the hostel. Tiredly chatted into the evening and watched the people of Zadar pass by and then retired to bed.

Unfortunately our stay was such a shot one, only a weekend and we drove back to the airport the next morning, via the back streets of Zadar, marveling at the different way of life. Overall I'm glad we went somewhere like Zadar as opposed to Split or Dubrovnik as there were so little tourists, and the national park is just breathtaking.

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